


Stestiel Interaction #7

by halewinchester



Series: Stestiel Interactions [7]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halewinchester/pseuds/halewinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not your fault."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stestiel Interaction #7

**Author's Note:**

> hydeaway, on tumblr, asked for Castiel telling Stiles it's not his fault.

Derek and Dean were picking up more beer, leaving Cas to watch over the boy. He stood at the foot of the bed, when Stiles broke out in a fit of night terrors. Cas stepped closer, feeling the pain and panic flooding Stiles’ system.

He put a pair of fingers to Stiles’ head, trying to calm him with his higher powers, but it did no good. It reminded him of when Dean had nightmares of hell. Cas had tried to sooth those nightmares too, but it never worked. The pain was burned into his soul as this pain.

In Stiles, it was worse. He was a child, innocent and pure, yet utterly consumed by guilt. Guilt he worked so hard to bury deep inside so that no one saw.

A choked cry left Stiles’ lips and Cas sat down next to him. He tried again to replace the nightmare with the memories Stiles held most dear, but Stiles was so fixated on blaming himself.

Cas moved his hand to Stiles’ shoulder, waking him gently. Stiles jerked, rushing to free himself from the angel’s touch. His eyes were watering, but Stiles didn’t cry. He quickly swallowed every sign of fear and suffering and smiled.

“Was I snoring?” he asked innocently, scratching his head as he shifted up the bed to lean against the headboard.

Cas stared at him. Dean had warned him about saying things he wasn’t supposed to know. That it was wrong and inappropriate to poke around in people’s minds, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt everyone’s emotions. Stiles had done a remarkable job hiding it, but he felt it now and he couldn’t turn it off.

“It’s not your fault.”

A small spark of fear crossed Stiles’ face, but he hid it, the smile retaking its place.

“I know, Cas,” Stiles responded, climbing out of bed. “No one can control whether or not they snore.”

“I wasn’t talking about the snoring…”

Stiles wet his lips, refusing to look at the angel. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Plenty of people had told him the same thing. Some of them believed it. Some of them meant it. But Stiles didn’t listen to them. Enough people were stupid enough to blame him that Stiles believed them wholeheartedly.

What Stiles had missed was those people accepting the truth. His father never truly blamed him; he was simply angry, hurt and not ready to lose his wife.

“Your mother’s death was not your fault.”

Cas could feel something tear in Stiles’ soul. Stiles didn’t believe him. Every muscle in Stiles human body went tense. His hands curled into fists, trying desperately to ignore the angel’s words, but Cas wouldn’t let him.

Cas tried to utilize one of Winchester methods. He put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, but the teenager whipped around, his fist slamming into the angel’s face. Stiles cried out in pain, looking over his bruised knuckles as he moved away. Cas was unfazed. It took a demon at least to cause any real harm to him.

Stiles was shaking, anger and fear taking claim to his body.

“The doctors were wrong when they said she was getting better,” Cas explained.

“Shut up,” Stiles barked.

“You were the reason she held on so long.”

“Stop it!” Stiles screamed.

“She never blamed you.”

Stiles eyes were red from holding back the tears. Cas stepped forward, but Stiles cowered from him.

“She loved you. Still loves you,” he assured, but that didn’t make Stiles feel any better.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. The memories she relives in heaven all include you and your father.” Cas reached out to the frail boy, rearranging his face to show his sincerity. “And your father doesn’t blame you. He loves you the same he did as the day you were born.”

Stiles broke and Cas caught him. Stiles wrapped an arm around him, burying his face in the crook of Cas’s neck. Cas tried to return the affection, holding the child close as his body heaved relentlessly.

Derek barged in, obviously feeling Stiles pain from the parking lot. Dean wasn’t far behind. He stormed over to Cas, but Dean got between them, holding Derek back. The werewolf barely contained his demon, his eyes flashing red.

“Down, boy,” Dean snapped, just missing Derek’s animalistic slip, before focusing on his angel. “Cas, what do you?”

“I took away some of his pain.”

Derek calmed down, his humanity regaining. He pulled Stiles from Cas, grateful, but untrusting.

He was always untrusting.

Stiles clung to Derek, staring at Cas. He was still afraid, afraid to let anyone see a side of him other than the spastic class clown. He wanted to bury everything again. It’s what he did. It’s what he was used to, but he couldn’t. Derek knew. Someone close to him knew. And there was no escaping that.

**Author's Note:**

> I always saw Cas knowing about Derek. He just never told Dean, because then he’d try to kill Derek and Cas doesn’t want that.


End file.
